


Tarte Tatin

by Justdothat



Category: RuPaul's Drag Race RPF
Genre: 50s Housewives, Adultery, Alternate Universe - 1950s, F/F, Light Dom/sub, PWP, Smut, Sub Katya, it's literally just smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-24
Updated: 2018-12-26
Packaged: 2019-05-27 19:39:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15031817
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Justdothat/pseuds/Justdothat
Summary: Crossing the kitchen to stick her head around the living room door, she immediately locks eyes with the cause of her distraction.Katya was sat in Trixie's husband's chair, her long blonde hair swept back in a messy approximation of the other women's styled coifs. Her dress was red, expensive but imperfectly pressed, the pleats that should've fallen from the cinched waistline lost amongst creases she'd neglected to iron out.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi!
> 
> I'm not dead!
> 
> All The Little Lights is still in process, it's not abandoned, I'm just in a rut with it haha. Thank you for all of your amazing comments & kudos on it! Y'all are lovely <3 
> 
> And now for something completely different, a one shot PWP

Trixie opens the refrigerator, leaning down to pull out the dessert she’d made earlier in the day. She takes a moment to relish the cool air, calming the flush on her cheeks but doing nothing to relieve the throbbing between her legs. Fuck Katya.

_Katya’s hand creeping under her dress at the dinner table, sliding up her thigh…_

Placing the tarts on the counter with shaky hands, she turns to fetch the good china from one of the lemon yellow cabinets.

_Katya reaches the top of her thigh and dips between her legs, fingers pulling at the lace edging of her panties…_

She miscalculates slightly and the top plate slides to the ground with a crash, narrowly avoiding her feet. Seriously, fuck Katya. A voice calls out from the drawing room:

“Everything alright Beatrice?”

“Yes Ruth! All fine!”

_Katya tracing tiny circles over the cotton as she demurely asks Deidre how her son was going at his new school, Katya pressing her fingers lower to feel the growing wet patch as she agrees that yes, Mark is in good standing for an athletic scholarship, no the other boys couldn’t keep up with his ability in baseball, dropping into the conversation that she’s relieved for Deidre that he’s finally growing into his ears now._

She scowls and grabs the dustpan, sweeping up the shards as if they’d personally wronged her. Dumping the ruined plate in the bin, Trixie catches her reflection in the now darkened window. She looks flustered, her cheeks pink & curls of blonde hair escaping from her up do, far from the immaculate hostess she’d appeared at the start of the night. She takes a moment to smooth down her baby blue dress & pushes an escaped curl behind her ear, before pulling the curtain across.

Crossing the kitchen to stick her head around the living room door, she immediately locks eyes with the cause of her distraction. Katya was sat in Trixie’s husband’s chair, her long blonde hair swept back in a messy approximation of the other women’s styled coifs. Her dress was red, expensive but imperfectly pressed, the pleats that should’ve fallen from the cinched waistline lost amongst creases she’d neglected to iron out. Next to Trixie’s sister, Ruth, who was perched straight as pin, with legs primly crossed at the ankles, Katya’s posture looked even worse. She slouched back in the chair, knees knocked out to the sides as she bit at her thumbnail distractedly, ignoring the conversation around her & humming along to the gramophone. She grins; cool, calm & collected as she meets Trixie’s eye, suddenly laser focused as she draws the tip of her thumb into her mouth, a flash of her tongue as her red lips move to suck around the tip…

“Katerina, could you please come help me with the dessert?” Her words come out too fast, & she thinks it’s a wonder they’re recognizable as English.

“Oh no Beatrice, I’ll do it! It’s so seldom we get to see Katerina at book club, I’d hate for her to be stuck in the kitchen half the night!”

Ruth’s voice dripped with saccharine, & Trixie could tell the second they got to the kitchen she’d be enduring a whispered lecture from her sister on why Katya wasn’t to be invited to social events anymore. 

“Ruth, no, thank you but I really need Katerina’s help with this one,” her voice sounds oddly high pitched to her own ear, but if the rest of the book club notice it they don’t react, too invested in the current conversation; gossiping about Mrs. Next Door’s scandalous daughter, Violet. Katya, on the other hand, definitely notices; her smirk deepening at Trixie’s discomfort. “She has such a knack with desserts & she promised to check over one of my recipes tonight.”

Katya was terrible at all aspects of cooking & the idea of Trixie letting her correct her recipes was laughable, but no one seemed to question it. Katya’s eyes glint as she pulls herself up from Stephen’s armchair, flouncing across the room to join Trixie at the kitchen door. From the sofa, Ruth gives a tiny disapproving shake of her head & Trixie knows she’s going to get an earful about this later. Right now though, she doesn’t care. As soon as the door clicks shut, Trixie’s hands are pinning her back against it, mouths crashing together with pent up frustration.

“You. Fucking. Tease”

Trixie’s hissing into Katya’s neck, her teeth nipping and punctuating her words into the other’s skin. She can hear Katya stifling her laughter, snorting into Trixie’s hair, both of them trying desperately not to arouse the suspicion of their friends on the other side of the door. Trixie sends up a silent prayer that the combination of music & conversation would successfully drown them out.

Trixie brings her hands down to Katya’s waist, pulling her back further into the kitchen, until they’re pressed up against the cabinetry.

“Get on the bench”

Katya quirks an eyebrow, a silent “ _you’re giving me orders now?”_ , & springs up effortlessly to sit on the counter, her grin spreading wider as Trixie’s hands travel up her thighs. Her fingers, expecting panties, are met only with the smooth skin of Katya’s hips. Katya, looking like the cat who got the cream, leans forward and presses her lips into Trixie’s ear, her breath hot against the shell.

“I’ve been dripping on your husband’s chair all night”

Trixie borderline whimpers at this and she’s dropping to her knees, pushing Katya’s skirt up frantically to expose her pussy, visibly slick as promised. Katya spreads her thighs further apart, an invitation for Trixie’s tongue, which immediately takes up residence between her lips. Trixie circles her tongue up roughly to her clit, sucking hard, & eliciting a sharp inhale of breath as Katya’s head jerks back with a whispered “oh fuck”. She immediately pulls it right back to feather light kitten licks, her hands ghosting around to the top of Katya’s ass, enjoying the feeling of payback for all the teasing Katya had put her through tonight. She holds herself back from kneading her fingers in like she wants to, instead resting her hands lightly against the warm skin, and continues to give what she knows is not nearly enough pressure with her tongue. Katya lets out a grunt of frustration. She braces one hand on the countertop & pushes the other into the back of Trixie’s hair, her hips rolling & searching. Trixie smacks her hand & pulls her face away abruptly.

“Don’t fuck up my hair, bitch”

Pulling Katya’s dress up further, she kisses a trail down what she can expose of Katya’s stomach, the skin twitching with anticipation as she travels lower. She pauses when she reaches neatly trimmed hair, looking up coquettishly through her lashes. The skin of Katya’s neck has flushed pink, clashing horribly with her red dress, and Trixie can see her pulse point jumping. Her head leans back against the cabinet, red lips hanging open and green eyes blown dark as she opens them to see why Trixie’s stopped. Trixie blinks slowly as she presses her tongue forward into Katya’s entrance, releasing her dress to grab at her ass fully this time, digging her fingers deep into tight muscle, her nails just long enough to scratch.

She swipes her tongue rhythmically now, and Katya’s eyes are screwed shut, her lip bitten between perfect teeth to stop her from crying out. Her thighs begin to tremble & Trixie can tell she’s already close. She sucks against her clit again & Katya stifles a whimper, hips shuddering as she tries to chase her orgasm. She’s so quiet as she gasps out, “Trixie, yes, _please,_ I’m so close”.

Then suddenly, Trixie’s pulling away. She smooths Katya’s dress back down over her shaking legs, and leans in to press a chaste kiss against her cheek, leaving a print of her own slick. “I’m the tease around here, _Yekaterina_ ” she whispers, drawing out the full Russian inflection of Katya’s name as she strokes her hand down the back of her neck. Her other hand travels back under Katya’s skirt, ghosting over her pussy to draw the wetness further down her thighs. Katya visibly twitches at the contact, her hands white knuckling the edge of the bench.

“And you’ve made such a mess of my counter.”

She wipes her hand off on the bench & swivels on her heel to the hall door. Pausing in the entrance way, she turns back to Katya. Katya’s mouth is hanging open, halfway between offended & aroused, lipstick smudged. Her hair is falling half down over her glassy eyes and her chest is still pink & rising erratically with each breath. She already looks thoroughly fucked out, totally out of place in the midst of the demure pastels of Trixie’s kitchen. Trixie’s aching to finish the job, to let Katya fuck her face until she screams. Instead she sucks the last of Katya’s wetness off her fingers, pouting her lips around one digit at a time. Katya stifles a moan from the countertop, clenching her thighs together as Trixie holds her eye contact.

“Be a good girl & clean it up for me”

With that, she turns back down the hallway to fix her make-up, grinning at the fact that if she’s going to have to suffer through the rest of the evening, at least Katya’s going to have it worse. 

 


	2. Chapter Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh wow! I'm not dead! 
> 
> For those asking All The Little Lights isn't dead either, I'm just stuck on writing a stupid in between bit before it can get where I'm trying to get it to go haha. 
> 
> But for some reason this one shot wouldn't leave me alone aaand now it's not a one shot any more. Part two of what is essentially porn without a plot but now vaguely has plot :) 
> 
> Also some of Trixie's sex ed at the end there is.. vintage public school sketchy haha

Katya can’t sit still. Every position she tries feels… overstimulating and her restless fidgeting isn’t helping matters. Her thighs are clamped together like a vice and she’s perched on the edge of her seat, trying her hardest to ignore the dampness on her skirt & thanking her lucky stars that the fabric is thick enough that her shame won’t show through.

It’s also not helping that Trixie is absolutely reveling in their role reversal. She’d leant so far forward to serve Katya her dessert, she’d had nowhere to look but cleavage, engulfed in a whole new world of floral perfume and boobs. Every “innocent” touch as Trixie grabbed her arm, or brushed past her, was shooting straight to her cunt, which was aching mercilessly. She was dying to excuse herself to the bathroom, she knew she was wound up enough that rubbing herself off would be quick enough to not be suspicious to the rest of the party. But she really wanted Trixie tonight, and for that she knew she’d have to wait.

She knew she was probably conspicuously red in the face, could feel a bead of sweat running down the arch of her back as she sat & waited for the stupid book club to be over. Trixie’s sister kept shooting her glares like she’d personally pissed in her tea & while Ruth was never a fan of Katya, she couldn’t shake the anxiety that she knew something. It was nearly 8.30, they never went past 9.00, at worst she’d be out of her misery in half an hour, surely.

Forty minutes, that felt like four days, later & Katya closed the gate behind the group, setting off in the direction of her own house. She remembered now why she hated book club, tried to avoid going on the few occasions she was asked. Never had an evening felt so drawn out. Every conversation after she’d come back from the kitchen had been boring and endless.

Her feet pinched in her heels as she walked, counting the steps between every crack in the sidewalk & trying to cross them only on the even numbers. She watched as the other women slipped through their white picket fences, waving at each other as one by one they disappeared behind near identical doors. Katya half-heartedly participated in the goodbye charades, waving as each door closed, though she knew her neighbors would hardly be missing her company as much as they exclaimed. She took her pinching shoes off as she continued the walk alone.

She wondered if she’d be the topic of their breakfast conversations again, as Violet had been at dinner. Her messy hair, her thick accent, her lack of ladylike manners, all of which had never failed to alienate her from refined company. The whispers of her background, how much of a waste it was that a respectable, wealthy bachelor like Michael had come back from Europe mysteriously married to a foreign girl. Her first nine months in America, she knew they’d all been waiting for her stomach to swell, an easy scandal to explain the ill-thought out marriage. But Katya had stayed slim and childless. Michael bought her expensive clothes, he held her hand in public, her accent faded. She wasn’t accepted but his social standing bought her their tolerance. They invited her to fundraisers, included her in polite small talk and hoped for her to make a generous donation and leave early.

And it was fine, really. Katya didn’t need close friends. She didn’t much care if they laughed at her bad manners and rumpled dress over their morning eggs. She didn’t like them much either.

She liked Trixie though. She thought about it as she circled past her own house at the end of the cul-de-sac & back up the path towards Trixie’s house, now the only person still out on the street. Trixie was everything Katya had imagined the American Dream to be: big blonde hair, sweet sundresses and home baking. Trixie always looked wholesome, perfectly put together. She hosted dinner parties, volunteered at the local animal shelter, kept her home & garden immaculate. She’d kissed Katya in the bathroom at Julia Bradley’s tupperware party, then promptly sat in the bathtub and cried as Katya rubbed her back, returned the kiss and promised to keep her secret.

Katya liked how inappropriately loud Trixie’s laugh was, especially when it made her uptight sister jump. She liked that Trixie always sounded like she was being rude, even when she wasn’t. She always half hoped someone would take offence and they could be social pariahs together. She liked that she wasn’t anywhere near as wholesome as she looked, and that her husband took long business trips.

Katya slipped back through the Mattel’s gate, hurrying up the garden path before anyone happened to look out their window and see her returning. She didn’t bother to knock, pulling the door quickly closed behind her.

Trixie stood in the hallway, opposite the door. As Katya stepped towards her, she pushed her powder blue dress off her shoulders, allowing it to drop & pool around her be-stockinged feet. Her bra was baby pink, with tiny ribbons at the straps, her breasts pillowing out of the cups. Her panties almost matched but didn’t look like they’d been bought as a set, the pale pink cotton adorned with little white polka dots and a sizeable damp patch of arousal. She stepped out of her dress and turned slowly, swaying her full ass as she walked towards her bedroom without saying a word. Katya followed her.

Trixie lay herself back in the center of the bed, lifting a leg for Katya to roll her hold up stocking down. Katya kissed each knee as she did so, placing the undergarments on the ottoman at the foot of the bed. Trixie smirked at her.

“Let me see you, Kat”

She steps back from the bed to unzip her dress, pushing it from her shoulders and letting it fall, as Trixie had done. She stands, exposed and vulnerable, in only her little black bra, painfully aware of the wetness spider webbing her naked thighs. Trixie eyes the bra and motions for her to take it off. Her breasts are small but nicely shaped, even with no bra to support them.

Trixie pulls herself to the edge of the bed, reaching forward to run her hands down Katya’s sides. She moves her hand to Katya’s pussy, causing her hips to jump involuntarily at the contact, a high pitched whimper escaping her lips. Trixie gives her no friction though, just holds her hand still and murmurs “Baby, you’re _so_ wet”.

Katya keens and tries to push into Trixie’s hand, searching for pressure against her swollen clit. Trixie tuts and pulls her hand away.

“No. I don’t think so. Get on your knees”

She immediately drops to the floor, thighs pressed tightly together. Trixie shakes her head.

“Spread your legs for me. I want you to feel how empty you are”

Katya obediently widens her knees, feeling herself stretch and gape around nothing as she kneels by the bed. Trixie reaches down to pull her hair free from what remains of her hair style. She strokes down the side of Katya’s face, rubbing her cheek gently with her thumb. She then guides Katya’s hands up to her underwear, pulling herself up from the bed to allow her to pull them off.

Trixie reaches behind herself, retrieving a heavy dildo from the small piles of toys on the bed. She places it between Katya’s legs, it’s base keeping it upright, & Katya sits forward, scrambling to line it up with her entrance. Trixie laughs.

“Oh no, not yet. I just want you to know what you’re getting when I’m done” she holds Katya’s hips still, the dildo just long enough that it’s tip brushes her cunt as she sits up with her knees wide, hovering over it. “When I come, then you can use it. Until then..” she pushes Katya’s hips down ever so slightly, the tip pressing into her making her whimper again. “you better stay still, baby”

Trixie leans back onto the bed again, spreading her legs to invite Katya between them. Katya’s long hair tickles against her inner thighs as she leans forward, bracing one hand against them to hold herself up off the dildo she steadies with the other. She’s too desperate to get herself off to tease, immediately circling hard and rough with her tongue against Trixie’s clit, letting out tiny gasps as she accidentally bumps the toy against her own entrance.  

She’s struggling to keep her pace even, her tongue stuttering as she again bumps back against the top of the toy, reminding her how empty she is. The temptation to sit back, to fill herself up completely is overwhelming but she knows the more she lets herself get distracted the longer Trixie will hold off from coming. She takes her hand off the dildo to curl two fingers into Trixie, sucking hard as she does so. She has to bring her thighs back together to hold the toy upright, can feel it cool and hard between her legs, the tip already wet from its contact with her cunt.

“More Katya, focus”

She adds a third finger, curling them rhythmically as Trixie sops around her. Trixie pushes her hips forward against Katya’s face, fucking herself harder onto her fingers at the same time. Katya speeds up her pace & Trixie moans, then she feels her walls clenching around her hand, feels the wetness pooling in her palm and dripping down her wrist as she reaches her orgasm. Katya continues massaging her fingers into Trixie, gentle as she comes down. She kisses her inner thigh as she pulls out, fighting the urge to bite and leave her mark.

Trixie sits forward again and runs her hands through Katya’s hair, thumbs massaging at her temples as she hums with post-coital contentment. She shuffles off the bed to kneel beside her on the floor, pressing her body close against Katya’s front as she leans in to kiss her. She snakes a hand down her back to grab at Katya’s ass, securing her tightly against herself. She can feel Katya’s muscles twitching with anticipation, trembling as she lets Trixie knead her ass and taste the come that coats her chin.

“I wanna see you fuck yourself”

Trixie pushes herself back to sit against the edge of the bed, one knee propped up to lean her head against as she looks at Katya expectantly.

The toy is intimidating. She’s desperate but it’s decidedly bigger than she usually takes and she knows she’s not the size queen Trixie can be. She’s pretty sure she can take it but definitely not as fast as she wants to. She lines herself up again and gingerly lowers herself over the tip, steadying it with one hand as she grips her own thigh with the other. By the time she’s halfway down, the stretch is overwhelming and she lets out a whimper, the muscles of her abs fluttering as she jolts forward. She pulls back up and pushes herself down again, getting fractionally further. The pressure inside her feels amazing but she can’t get it deep enough. A broken moan spills out as she pushes down again, still only just passing the halfway point. 

“I thought you wanted to come?”

Trixie’s touching herself lazily as she watches, feigning disinterest.

“I do! I do so badly”

“Doesn’t look like it,” she smirks, flashing her little crooked teeth. Katya can tell she’s stifling a laugh as she says “my dick too big for you baby?” 

Katya tries to say no but it comes out more as a strangled gasping noise as she pushes down again. Her nails are biting half moon crescents into her thigh and her breaths come out in tiny pants and whines.

“Stop moving”

She stops where she is, half impaled, her thighs shaking. Trixie leans forward to trace the jumping tendon where Katya’s hip meets her thigh then, keeping her touch unbearably light, strokes up over her taught stomach to brush over and around her nipple. She pinches it roughly and Katya lets out a high pitched keen. She crawls forward and presses their bodies flush against each other, can feel again how hard Katya is trembling as she snakes her arm around the back of her waist to help hold her up. Katya’s all but collapsing onto her, hands clinging to Trixie’s shoulders, her face in her neck.

“That’s a shame. I really wanted to see you ride it baby. You would’ve looked so good, all filled up. Maybe you need an easy round first, obviously you don’t want to come yet.”

She pulls Katya up by her waist, allowing the toy to drop out of her and fall onto its side with a dull thunk. She scoops an arm under her legs, picking her up to lie her on the bed. Katya’s eyes are glassy and her mouth is hanging open slightly; she looks spaced out. Trixie climbs up on the bed beside her. She gently brushes a strand of hair off her face, runs her thumb along Katya’s cheek.

“Kat,” she presses a kiss on the tip of her nose. “All okay?”

Katya locks onto her eye contact then, giving a tiny nod to the affirmative. She breathes out a “yeah”, craning her neck up to kiss her back.

“Honey, tell me if you need to stop”

“I will. But I don’t,” she settles her head back into the pillows, closing her eyes. “Love you” she whispers.

“Love you too,” she drops another kiss to Katya’s forehead. “Now gimme your hands”

Katya obediently raises her arms in front of her and Trixie grabs them, pinning them against the headboard with one hand as she picks up a silk scarf off the bed with the other. She winds the scarf around Katya’s wrists, tying her securely to the board.

She moves down to nestle herself between Katya’s thighs, lifting and spreading her legs into a wide split. She pushes down gently on her calves so that Katya’s toes are bumping the mattress on either side of her, then slides her hands along the insides of her legs, up her thighs until her hands are resting on either side of her pussy. She takes one finger and starts tracing slow circles around her hole, avoiding her clit completely. She can see the muscles in Katya’s lower abs jumping with anticipation; can hear her short, shallow breaths as she tries to keep still.

She pushes two fingers in without warning, beckoning them quickly towards herself. Katya cries out, her legs curling in automatically and hitting against Trixie’s sides. Trixie withdraws her hand immediately.

“Keep still,” she hisses, delivering a swift smack to her pussy. Katya whimpers and lets her legs drop back out to the side again and Trixie pushes back into her exposed cunt. This time she doesn’t curl them straight away, holding her fingers still until Katya starts to whisper “please” under her breath. Slowly, she starts to scissor her fingers, holding them at the widest point each time. She can see Katya dripping out, can feel her walls clenching against the space her fingers are creating. Katya’s cheeks are going pink with embarrassment, the wet noises of her cunt loud in the empty house. 

She pulls it back to one finger, fucking in and out lazily. Katya’s almost sobbing with frustration, her hips canting down hard against the mattress as Trixie gives her nothing.

“Shhh baby. Shh.”

She drags her finger up out of her pussy, tracing a path of wetness over Katya’s stomach. She crawls up Katya’s body, laying herself by her side as she slips her fingers into Katya’s mouth. Her cheeks hollow as she sucks and Trixie has to hold herself back from kissing the tiny mole under her cheekbone.

“Tell me what you want,” She whispers.

As soon as Trixie’s fingers are out of her mouth, Katya moans again.

“Katya, no, use your words.”

“Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me” she’s hissing through gritted teeth.

Trixie gets up off the bed to retrieve the discarded toy from the floor. She picks it up and gives it a once over, before ducking into the en suite to rinse it off.

“Trixieee!” Katya whines.

“I’m just washing it! Two seconds”

“Hurry up”

“Babe, it literally has cold come and a dust bunny on it! You don’t want it in you right now”

She could hear Katya mutter something back that definitely included the words “dusty pussy” followed by a lot of giggling at her own joke. She finishes drying off the dildo and re-enters the room. Katya stops snorting to herself immediately, as Trixie takes her in; her face is flushed, dirty blonde hair vaguely sweaty and trapped beneath her shoulders. Her ribs poke out from her pale skin as her back arches off the mattress again. The grotesque little cat tattooed on her ass, that had shocked Trixie so much when she’d first seen it (“Are you some kind of filthy pirate woman?! Why do you have that?!” “Because I love pussy, and obviously yes”), writhes as she does.

Trixie positions herself between her legs, curling an arm around Katya’s knee for leverage. She lines up the toy, dragging it up and down Katya’s pussy a couple of times as she tries to rut against it, without much success. Then Trixie’s pushing it into her, slowly but firmly as she watches Katya’s eyes roll back, unintelligible little noises streaming from her mouth. She doesn’t bother to thrust it, only pushing slightly on the base as she watches Katya getting off on the sensation of fullness. She can tell she’s even closer to the edge of the cliff than she has been all night, teeth grit and eyes shut as her orgasm threatens to bloom. She leans down and finishes what she’d started with her mouth in the kitchen earlier in the night, licking and sucking until Katya comes with a yelp and her hips ease their twitching against her. She rests her head against the warm, hard plane of Katya’s stomach, strokes up and down Katya’s hip as she comes down, kisses the freckle by her belly button.

Trixie pulls the toy from her, then reaches up and unties the scarf from around her wrists. Katya’s reaching for her immediately, hands grasping around her back as she kisses her, pulling Trixie’s whole weight down on top of her. Trixie thought for sure she’d be done, exhausted, but there’s still something needy about the way Katya’s kissing her.

“Seriously?” she mutters it into her kiss, can feel Katya’s teeth grin against her in response.

“Slut. Okay, one more time for me baby, I wanna feel you”

 She pulls Katya onto her lap, pushing her thigh between her legs. Katya rests her head against Trixie’s shoulder, her arms wrapped around her waist as she straddles the taller blonde’s thigh, rubbing herself up and down it with tiny whimpers & sighs. It takes less than two minutes before she’s coming again, her heat running down Trixie’s leg as she slumps into her chest, finally spent.

“You’re so good. You’re so good, I love you so much,” Trixie’s murmuring into her hair as she holds Katya close and tips her back to lying on the bed. “So good baby,” she kisses her forehead, then “two seconds”.

She ducks into the en suite and comes back with a warm wash cloth. She cleans them both up gently, before chucking the cloth in the vague direction of the wash basket. Then she pushes the sheets back on the bed and climbs in, pulling Katya up beside her and tucking them in. She kisses her head again softly, rubs along the tops of her arms as Katya burrows up against her.  “You’re so beautiful Kat”

After sex is the only time Katya ever seems peaceful. The restless energy that radiates off her calms down and she’s still and quiet; Trixie always feels a sense of privilege when she gets to bear witness to this side of her. She knows it’s something of a silent compliment that Katya doesn’t pull away to reserve that peace for herself, that she lets Trixie share in it. She also knows it’s an honour that took a long time to earn, doesn’t miss the days when Katya used to be up and out the door before Trixie even had time to clean her fingers off.

She relishes the nights when she gets to watch Katya slip straight into sleep afterwards. The mornings after when there’s a little less purple under her eyes and she wakes up still content and soothed.

Tonight though, she can already feel the tension creeping back into Katya’s shoulders. She knows that it’s not going to be one of those nights; that no matter how much she rubs the knots out of Katya’s neck or strokes her hair, the switch has already flicked back on early. She can feel Katya’s fingers starting to twitch against her bare back, can hear the click of a joint as she flexes her red-painted toes under the duvet. She settles for squeezing Katya tightly, another quiet “I love you” laid into her hair. Katya doesn’t say it back, but she doesn’t break the embrace either. They lie in silence, until Trixie starts to wonder if maybe she was wrong and Katya has slipped off to sleep. Then;

“Trixie,” she whispers, “Do you fuck him?”

The question catches her off guard.

“I thought we didn’t talk about this”

“You do though, don’t you”

“I…” she pauses to mull over her words before she finishes her sentence. “Not like I fuck you”

She knows Katya’s not content with her answer, feels as if she can feel the hurt flinch through Katya’s aura.

“He’s my husband, Kat. I have to.”

“Michael’s my husband.”

“It’s different for you. I’m supposed to be trying for a baby.”

Katya tilts her head back so she can look at her and Trixie immediately misses being able to feel the warm snuffs of her breath against her neck. She doesn’t look angry but her face is searching, her tone measured and oddly neutral; casually conversational.

“Do you want one?”

“Not really. I don’t want his. We only do it once a month and I always pee right after.”

“Does that stop you getting pregnant?”

“Well I’m not pregnant yet.”

She can feel green eyes boring into her, Katya’s scrutiny unrelenting and intense, like she’s trying to drill right through to her brain to take her answers without the middleman of a mouth.

“He’s not back for another two days though. Can we not talk about him?”

It comes out harsher than she meant it somehow, but her brusqueness never seems to phase Katya in the way it offends others. Katya just grins, any earlier vulnerability already swallowed down behind her hard, white teeth.

“What if I could get you pregnant, would you want my baby?”

“Would I want your demon spawn?” Trixie laughs as Katya smacks her chest, giggling. She kisses the top of Katya’s head. “Yes, I’d want your cursed offspring”

“Only top-quality demons from this pussy!”

“Our demon babies would be cute though, they’d be so blonde”

“I just…” Katya’s voice falters and she reaches up to hold Trixie’s cheek, her face suddenly earnest again. When she speaks again, it’s so quiet Trixie can barely hear her. “He doesn’t make you, does he?”

“No Kat. He doesn’t make me.” She smooths out the frown between Katya’s brows with her thumb. “He’s fine, I just don’t love him.”

 

_1954: Five Years Earlier_

“She’s not a Russian spy,” Michael laughs “God, have you talked to her? Katya’s too stupid to be a spy”

From behind the door, Katya feels her heart clench, her eyes prickling with anger and hurt. It goes against her every instinct to not walk out of the kitchen door and never come back, leave Michael to deal with the scandal of the foreign bride that left him; let people say he paid for her and she ran as soon as she was on American soil.

She’s done listening in on this conversation, pulls away from the door and presses her fingers into her eyelids to stop the tears escaping. She can hear the men laughing at her without needing to eavesdrop.

She knows she’s gone soft in America; she couldn’t cry if she tried in Europe, where she’d gone through much worse. Six months of living in a comfortable home and some playground bullying had her sniffling. He’s a means to an end, she reminds herself, maybe you are stupid if you thought it was more than that.

 

…

 

That night she lies stiffly, as far from him in the bed as she can, her knees almost hanging off the mattress.

“Is something wrong Katya?”

She rolls over to glare at him in the darkness, then turns back to stare out at the sliver of streetlight she can see peeking through the curtains. She feels his hand on her shoulder, pulling her back towards him.

“No! You do not touch.”

She jerks back from his hand, curling in on herself and pulling the blanket tighter.

“I don’t! Sorry, I didn’t… I won’t touch you. But you can talk to me if you want to? Are you homesick?" 

“Homesick? I do not know word”

“It means you’re sad because you miss Russia, you miss home” 

“No. Not homesick.”

“Okay.”

They lie on their separate sides of the bed, the awkward silence hanging between them.

“You say your friend, that I am stupid.” She keeps her voice measured and blunt, refusing to let any hint of emotion crack through as the darkness hides the welling in her eyes.

“Oh my god Katya…” to his credit, he sounds mortified. “I didn’t mean it. I know you’re not stupid. It’s just politics, they were saying because of where you’re from-“

“You say talk to her, you know she is stupid”

“It’s not… I’m so sorry Katya”

“You think I do not know I sound stupid?” She’s wound up now, spitting her words out through gritted teeth. “The people I meet now, hear me speak English and they think I am stupid. Everyone I meet here, no one will know how clever I am. They think I am stupid. I speak three languages Michael. Are you clever in Russian?”

“I’m not, I’m an idiot. I know you’re clever Katya. I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have said it”

“No, you shouldn’t have. When you tell them I am stupid, they treat me… I do not have word. Презирать. You tell me what word is, as you are clever one” “I don’t know Katya” “No. You don’t know. Even one word, you don’t know. No one teach me English, but I know. Because I learn. So you do not call me stupid.” “I promise Katya, never again.” “Next time you want tell them lie, tell them I am not spy because I am your wife and I love you.”

The bite is gone from her words and she just sounds sad. He reaches across the space between them and offers her his hand. This time she accepts it and he squeezes her fingers in an unspoken apology.

…

 

“Good morning America! Once again that was Rosemary Clooney with ‘This Ole House’, our number one on the charts this-“

Katya winds the volume right down on the radio dial.

“Good morning America! Good morning America. Good morning.”

She parrots herself over and over, trying to find the ‘d’ sound the presenter had used and lengthen her ‘o’s.

“Good morning! Good morning.”

By the time she’s finished making breakfast for Michael and herself- she’s made the pancakes too thick, they’ve burnt around the edges while the middle is still dubiously raw- her “Good morning!” sounds perfect. She sets their plates and practically bounces in her seat as she waits for her husband to come down from his shower.

“Good morning Michael!”

He jumps nearly a foot in the air at her shouted greeting. She cackles with laughter at his shock, her laughter even louder than her greeting had been.

“Jesus, Katya! That was uh.. enthusiastic for first thing in the morning, you nearly gave me a heart attack”

“Good morning Michael” she repeats, grinning ear to ear. She points to herself, clearly delighted; “American!”

“You do sound American! You sound like you’re from California” he laughs.

“Is only on ‘good morning’ but is good? No accent.”

“Yes Katya, no accent! It’s really good.” 

She beams.


End file.
